Time Is Tickin' Songtext

von Ant Banks

Time is ticking away; time is ticking away
Man, there's soldiers dying deep in their graves
Time is ticking away; time is ticking away
So before I go I got to get paid

No, I'm not speaking to them
When I speak to each and every individual;
Trapped in these streets visuals where the police be despicable
And get to know your plot and your plan
Trying to find rocks in your hand
See what you got, and look in
All up in your pot and your pan
But I only got one chance to get that knot in my hand
Fuck a bitch, fuck romancing, it ain't no stopping us man
On a rampage, these damn days got me stuck like bandages
How can a man raise his column with the fuck Uncle Sam page?
So I hustle, tussle with the local knuckles to their drawers
Rest in peace Rappin' Ron, I gots to buckle for my thug man
All hands clap for this Westcoast Rap
While we're smoking on these sacks keeping Oakland on the map

We play whores to the best max
And players strictly saxing prayers
When they're ticking it, the plot, yep, we're kicking it
Such a thickening displaying in my mind
Til I dismay, time is ticking away
But forever and a day, I'll be fine
Rhymes that's incline to reach
Debt stretched from the streets to beach
To be some peace, yet, some seak
The cripple way I show them triple play
Hold on to your grip before it slowly slip away
Prolong your trip; so they can gong your itch
Learning right from wrong, writing songs that's on hit
My voice's expandable, yep, it's choice words from my mandible
No cannibals, enjoy my voice; words understandable
If you, have a chance to, think you could dance to
What herb got no nerve, now, you shot to curb
Otis blurts on manuals that filled me with destruction
And my abduction will be coming up on nothing

Time is ticking away and I see technology surpassing humanity
It ain't demanding me to stop for all my piling insanity
But I planned to be a rich man, with diamond wrist bands
Designing good plans, watching my rhyming expand
To a higher plateau, so I can admire bad whores
Gotta let them tire rascals, cause they all desire cash-flow
But No-No I ain't exposed to for, I'm on a whole another page
Creeping when I load up the gauge
And it's deeper than the whole of the grave
So partner, throw up your page, wraps
As I make the whole damn stage collapse
Strapped with major gats to lay suckers and haters flat
I spray the mack, on jacks and High-Space scratch of packing dice
At night, my criminal activity is to track the bites
And niggaz wanna get rid of me
With hopes that are sending me to after life
Hoping that I can be broken but I'm from Oakland
And the nine acting right, take heat to these raps I write
I flow with wisdom, through the solar system
Telling all y'all soldiers listen

Behind the scenes to a revolution
I'm steadily shooting lines to screen
From the head that's loosing
Thirty degrees and the other seventy day don't give us
Living unheavenly, Murky Jeans is what work with
But see a shady business classify us some threats to sound
So if you better start from bottom, then it's best to stand
Illegal riches and bitches is just to test the man
Shuffle in my left hand, or rebel struggle
Lighting brothers up Jessie Tuggle
Fighting to juggle, Huhh. my money and adversaries
I need to switch to get some gadgets from the library
Checking maggots and faggots, so why should I worry
They trapped under bights, now?? the lightening
And hot as frightening
And be strapped in the night when the time heightening
Up african descents, smack dead men
It's just a formia of reality
They don't know me so they battle me
East Oakland, Cali G-the-Funk straight for ballies